The Boy From Six
by lookaliveerin
Summary: John Watson was seventeen when he got thrown into a competition to fight for his life. However, The Hunger Games turned out quite differently than expected, when he met an unusual boy from district six.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_This is the first fanfic I've posted on here and the first one in a while that I have even finished. Updates should be daily!_

_Reviews will be really appreciated, I need some criticism so I can write better_

_Also, chapters really vary in length. Some will be quite small and others will be way more. I hope that doesn't make this really bad..._

_Okay, thank you for taking your time to read this, it means a lot to me!_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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1

I had never felt happy in my home. I had lived in the same location for my whole life, the same as everybody else in the country. I lived in a place called 'Panem', which was separated into 13 districts and The Capitol, however District 13 was destroyed long ago. Each district specialised in a certain thing to give to the Capitol, the wealthiest place in all of Panem, and I lived in District 10, who specialised in livestock. In Panem, there was an annual event known as 'The Hunger Games', which sent twenty-four children between the ages of twelve and eighteen to fight until there is only one person left alive. The children consist of one male and one female from each district, chosen by having their name picked out of a jar at the reaping. It was compulsory for everybody to watch The Hunger Games. I had always wanted to escape where I lived, but had complete understanding that I could only manage that if I somehow got out of my district and found that there were places other than Panem I could go to, or if I was entered in The Hunger Games. The second option was more realistic than the first, but the consequence would probably be that I'd die, and if not I would still have to return home to District 10 when the games were over.

It was the day of the reaping, and I was hungry and tired when I woke up. I had always found sleeping to be difficult around the time of the Hunger Games. My sister, Harriet, told me that when I was younger I used to be even worse, and would cry in my sleep then complain of nightmares about the Hunger Games when I woke up. Some things didn't change much over the years.  
I climbed out of bed and into the main room of my house, where Harriet was lying asleep on the couch with bottles of alcohol scattered around her on the floor. I silently picked them up and threw them away into the bin, but jumped backwards when I dropped one bottle and it smashed all over my feet and the floor. Harriet woke up immediately in shock, and stared at me as I stood muttering under my breath.  
"Clumsy," she commented bitterly, and lay back down with her eyes shut.  
"I wouldn't have to do this if you didn't drink all of the alcohol in the district every day," I snapped, grabbing a brush and cleaning up the broken glass.  
Suddenly, Harriet swung herself up from the couch and snatched the brush from my hands. "I'll do it but shut up commenting about how I decide to cope."  
I began to walk away to prepare myself for the reaping, but turned back at her before I went through the doorway. "Do you know what today is?"  
She didn't reply and instead continued what she was doing, but the slight pause in her movement after I asked the question made me know that she realised what I meant.  
I went to my room again and got myself dressed into nicer clothes, since for some reason everybody felt the need to look good for the reaping. I didn't understand why since it wouldn't be a real celebration to know two people you have known and lived around will be sent to their death, and it could even be you who has to say goodbye to everybody and survive the games.  
An hour passed of me daydreaming before I went out to say goodbye to Harry since I didn't expect her to come with me to the reaping. As soon as I caught sight of her, I wanted to yell at her for sitting there drinking miserably while I was the one who was about to find out whether I'd be fighting for survival or not. I almost giggled to myself when I realised that was practically what I had to do every day, anyway. I didn't say a word and just left the house to go join the other boys and girls all stood in groups.

We received the typical speech from our District's representative, Pearl. They always seemed to have more glamorous names in the Capitol, and were dressed up in brightly coloured makeup with unnatural hair colours. Pearl stated for yet another year about how much she loved the video about the games, and how exciting it is to have the honour of fighting for your district. It would seem honourable to her, as she gets to sit and watch it without worrying about her own survival.  
"Ladies first!" Pearl smiled, skipping slightly to the bowl of paper notes with names on. She covered her eyes with one hand and pulled a name out with the other. It was almost insulting to see how much fun she had doing it while everyone else watching were panicking about their future.  
"Sarah Sawyer, come on up here!" she grinned. Heads turned in the crowd trying to locate the girl. I could see her eventually on the screen walking up on to the stage. She had tears pouring down her face and was crying frantically. Pearl didn't seem to know what to do.  
"Let's pick the boy now so you aren't waiting alone" she commented to Sarah, intending for it to be away from the microphone but everyone could still hear it well.  
"And the male tribute for District 10 is..." she dragged the final word out. "John Watson!"  
My heart sunk, and it felt like it skipped beats. I straightened my posture and kept a straight face as I walked through the crowd and stepped onto the stage.  
Pearl shook my hand and then placed it in Sarah's. "Everybody, your District 10 tributes for the seventy-fourth annual Hunger Games!"  
Sarah and I looked at each other for a few seconds, both hurt in the realisation that we would both be heading for our death.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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2

I was placed in a room alone to wait for Harriet to say goodbye to me before I would probably never see her again. After a few minutes, a hardly sober Harry stepped through the door and slammed it behind her. She stared at me for a few seconds, expressionless, and then jumped at me with her arms wrapped around me. She was crying while I hugged her back in silence.  
"I'm so sorry, John," she said between gasps of trying to catch her breath from crying so much. "I didn't mean to be so horrible to you earlier; I didn't mean to be so horrible to you _ever._"  
"It's okay, Harriet." I replied. "I know you don't mean it."  
"Please try to live, I need you back." She sobbed. "You're my brother, my only family."  
Those words hurt me the most. "I promise I will, but you have to do one thing for me while I'm gone."  
She finally released me from the hug. "What's that?"  
"Stop drinking alcohol. I know you've been through a lot Harriet, but this is killing you and it's hurting me too."  
She nodded her head and wiped her eyes. "I promise I will."  
The door of the room was opened and peacekeepers began to take my sister away from me. "Goodbye John!" Harry cried. "I love you."  
"This isn't goodbye, Harry. I love you too."

I was in a daze when Pearl guided Sally and I to the train where we would be transported to the Capitol. I wasn't sure what happened but I woke up in a bed in a small, cabin-like room. I glanced around and spotted a clock next to my bed which stated the day as well as the time, and I discovered it was five in the morning and the day following the reaping. I got out of the bed and slid the door of my room open, walked through the hall and entered another room. It was much bigger, and seemed to be luxurious although it was just a train. There was a TV on the wall, and a small kitchen, couches, a dining table, and curtains on the windows. I walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of water from a bottle in the fridge.  
"Couldn't sleep?" a voice asked from behind me that almost made me drop my glass. That brought back the memory of Harry. I turned around and was faced with Sarah, looking tired and very ill.  
"No," I answered with a sigh. "You?"  
"Surprisingly, no." She giggled slightly. It made me feel comforted to have someone from home, someone who understood what everything was like, and she seemed genuinely nice.  
We sat together on a couch in silence for a few minutes until she began to speak again.  
"Who have you left behind?" she asked in a sad tone.  
I looked up at her and saw her sad face staring back at me. Her eyes seemed so empty. "My sister, Harriet. What about you?"  
"My parents, and my younger brother." Sarah's lips twitched when she spoke, and I could tell that she knew she would never see them again. I put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her.  
"You'll see them again." My tone sounded flat when I spoke, but I had tried for it to sound hopeful. I couldn't even try to believe either of us would make it out alive.  
We didn't say much, but sat there until eight in the morning just for the comfort of being with each other. Pearl skipped into the room with a grin on her face and waved at us both before sitting at the table where breakfast was about to be served, and so we joined her.  
"You will meet your mentor today!" she stated as she picked up some toast. "Her name is Ella Thompson, she won four years ago."  
Sarah and I nodded our heads as we then began to eat some food. A door opened loudly, and I turned my head to see who walked in. It was a woman who seemed to avoid eye contact with us until she sat down at the table.  
"John, Sarah, this is Ella." Pearl introduced.  
We shook hands and Ella began to speak. "So how old are you this year?"  
It was a weird introduction, and from the tone I could tell Ella did not approve of the age in the games.  
"I'm fifteen," Sarah replied, with a small smile.  
"Seventeen," I didn't really want to have a full conversation.  
Ella seemed to understand that I didn't want to talk and turned to Sarah alone. "Fifteen? They seem to keep getting younger."  
Sarah looked unsure of whether to be insulted. Instead the conversation completely dropped and the only sound in the room was people eating food and cutlery on plates.

The journey to the Capitol seemed to take forever. When we arrived, people cheered us and took pictures of us in excitement. I'd never seen anything like it. We were taken to another building which was to be our house until the games took place. It was even better than the train, but I knew I would probably appreciate it a lot more if I knew it was just a way of improving our attitude to the Hunger Games. My room had a double bed for myself, and was full of weird technology I had never seen or understood. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I dreaded training the next day, so sleeping was once again not easy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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3

"This is your training room. You may train with others, but do not fight each other. There will be plenty of time for that later." The woman joked, and some people giggles were heard from the tributes. I didn't see why it was a joking matter.

People shuffled away to different weapons and began trying out what they could do. I looked around the room, unsure of what I could possibly manage. I had never used a weapon, since all that I did for money at home was look after animals as a healer. That probably wouldn't be too useful in the arena.

"John?" Sarah's voice asked, I turned slightly and realised she was waiting for me to move. "Do you want to go learn how to use some weapons?"

I gathered that she didn't want to train alone, and I was okay with joining her although I was still filled with doubt that I would kill in the arena. We walked over to a bow and arrow stand and I picked one up and tried it out, aiming for the picture of the person on a stand ahead of me. I shot the arrow, and felt my jaw drop in surprise when the arrow got it right in the centre.

"Wow," Sarah commented. "I'll be sure not to get on your bad side." She smiled as she said it and I smiled back, although I had frightened myself a bit at the accuracy on the first attempt.

We walked around a bit more and tried different things, and I saw some other tributes trying things although I didn't want to give up any remainder of hope I had.

I spotted a fire stand in the corner of the room, and decided it would be useful to understand before going into the arena. Sarah decided to stay and try tying ropes in case she needed them.

Making the fire was more difficult than I expected and I couldn't seem to manage it.

"You having trouble there?" someone asked. I raised my head and saw a boy stood in front of me, with a happy look on his face. He sat down on the other side of the fire and put his hands out. "May I?"

I passed him some sticks that I was using to light the fire and watched him carefully. A fire was lit right in front of my face and the man looked at me happily.

"I'm Mike," he introduced, reaching his hand out to shake mine. "Mike Stamford."

"John Watson," I replied.

Mike seemed nice enough, and it would definitely be good to have someone else to trust in the arena. Being friends with him could help me survive longer, since he clearly had no trouble making a fire. Sarah was good at camouflage, and I was good at shooting.

Training wasn't as bad as I had anticipated. If anything, it was quite enjoyable.

Everything seemed to go quickly from there on, and eventually it was our interviews. I wasn't aware of everyone going in front of me, and instead sat imagining what I would be asked. Eventually Sarah was called up and I smiled at her before she left to go be interviewed. I decided to stop daydreaming and pay attention to hers.

"So we saw when you were called up at the reaping..." the host began. "You were very emotional, why was that?"

Was that seriously even a question? Why was she crying when she found out that she's probably going to die within the next few weeks?

Sarah stared at the floor, then back at the interviewer. "I realised that I would be leaving my family, and may never see them again."

"Anybody else?" The host urged. "No relationship?"

"Well, no... but... There is somebody I like."

The audience made an excited noise and were clearly expecting her to say who.

"Go on?"

"Well, it won't work out anyway, I mean..."

"He's here with you?"

Sarah glanced off stage towards where I was. "Yes."

"You and John Watson then?" the host grinned. "How exciting! But also how unfortunate."

Sarah's face was bright red and she nodded her head slowly.

"I am sure everybody will be hoping that John feels the same way about you," he shook Sarah's hand. "Well, our time is up! Thank you Sarah and good luck!"

I was called up next, still slightly confused about what I was meant to do.

"John!" the host beamed. "I feel we have a very important thing to talk about, you and Sarah!"

I forced a smile.

"So, is it a mutual feeling?"

I hesitated. It wasn't mutual at all since I hardly knew her, but I nodded my head slowly.

The audience cheered, and I took my chance to win over the audience. "Yes, the games will be difficult knowing that it will be the only time I get to spend with her."

The audience and host all said "Awww" in sync.

"It is a horrible position to be in... But let's discuss your family? Who have you left behind?"

That was an unexpected turn. "My sister."

"And what did you say to her before you left?"

Like it's any of their business, I thought.

"I told her I'd win."

"And you will try your best to win. Good luck John Watson!" The interview was over.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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4

"Do not step off the pod before the timer is at zero," I was told. I nodded my head. "If you do, well, nobody wants to be in charge of cleaning that up."

I felt sick at the thought but tried to ignore the comment. I was put into a pod and waited, until it suddenly began to move and the floor started to rise. I stood straight and kept my face expressionless. I could do this, I could survive. Couldn't I? Yes.

My eyes struggled for a few seconds to adjust to the light, and when I opened them properly I first was confronted with seeing the other 23 tributes in a semi circle around the cornucopia. The cornucopia! I looked over to it and tried to make out whether it was worth running towards. I wanted to, I wasn't that far away. I was filled with opposing decisions, and then I heard the countdown reach three... two... one. Bells rung and everyone was running. I was frozen. Then I snapped back into reality for a second and turned on my heels, running straight away from the cornucopia. I hadn't bothered looking at my surroundings properly while stood still, although I probably should have. I was in a jungle-like location. Trees stood tall, and I had to dodge them while running across the length of the beach. At least there was a good access to water. I spotted that the arena went upwards like a hill, and there were many rocks and caves. This wasn't as bad as I had expected. I kept running desperately but decided to turn my head since I was concealed in the trees enough to check if I was being followed. Turning was a mistake, since I didn't see the tree root sticking out of the ground and hurled myself forwards, sliding across the damp, mossy, jungle ground. I glanced back again, and saw a shadow figure running in my direction. I could stand up and run away, or I could roll into some of the greenery and hide. I chose option two when I soon realised my leg hurt from the fall. I tried to calm my breathing but I was definitely not calm. I had never been so scared in my life.

"John, where are you?" It was Sarah. I was torn with the idea of trusting her or just ignoring her, but something told me to trust.

"I'm over here; get down before anyone sees you!" I whispered quite loudly.

Sarah pushed some of the leaves out of the way and a big smile crossed her face. "Thank god you're okay!" she crawled down and sat next to me. "Wait, why are you sitting here where it's so open? People will still find you here!"

"I know, I tripped over a tree root and fell," I admitted.

"Oh!" Sarah gasped. It was a little bit too dramatic of a response. She swung a bag around so it sat between us.

"You went to the cornucopia?" I was shocked. She had gotten there fast.

"No," she giggled. "Someone else did, they ran like lightening. But then someone else killed them, it was ugly. You don't even want to know the details." She trailed off.

"But how did you get it and not them?"

"Oh, after they got the bag they ran in this direction and I chased, I guess. I ran past a body that had an arrow in them, grabbed it and yeah... You can imagine the rest."

I suddenly felt vulnerable, Sarah had seemed like she wouldn't fight unless in self defence, and I was losing the idea of trusting her.

"So what's in it?" I asked, distracting myself from my own thoughts.

Sarah opened the bag and looked inside, "a sleeping bag, some rope, a knife and water bottle."

"Good, we just need to-" I was cut off by Sarah's hand flying to cover my mouth, and then I heard the footsteps running towards us. Sarah got the knife out quicker than I had blinked, and she had it ready for an attack, but the steps slowed down and I could hear the person struggling to catch their breath. I peeked through the leaves to see who it was, and saw a tall boy with a bright red face and unusual haircut. I hadn't remembered seeing him over the interviews or in training, but then again I hadn't been paying much attention at all.

The boy was muttering to himself and it was hardly audible.

"What's he saying?" Sarah asked me quietly.

However, Sarah's attempt at speaking in a hushed voice didn't work well enough, and the tall boy shot his head to the direction of us.

"Come out of there," he instructed. He didn't sound threatening, defensive or even relaxed. He was completely toneless. "I know you're hiding, I've no weapons anyway."

Sarah and I looked at each other, but I nodded my head in confirmation and we slowly stood from our hiding place.

"You don't hide well."

"We weren't trying to, and clearly you don't fight well." Sarah stated in a harsh tone, staring at the cut that went all the way up his arm and was bleeding quite heavily. He'd be lucky to not get that wound infected.

"Are you going to fight me?" he asked, clearly observing us for any weapons.

I shook my head. "Not unless you fight us first."

He seemed to smile before introducing himself as Randall Vye from District 8. The three of us began to walk further into the jungle to find a place we could stay safely, and it seemed we had found an ally fairly quickly.

We found a cave blocked by rocks, and all climbed inside. It seemed to get dark awfully quickly while we walked there, and that was probably more to do with the games being controlled rather than real life time.

"We need to find something to light a fire, it's getting colder as it gets darker." Sarah said, she sounded quite worried and I could tell it was the anxiety of the whole games getting to her.

"I'll go," Randall volunteered. "I imagine most people will be finding somewhere to sleep now rather than out looking for someone to kill." He smiled although everything he said still seemed monotone.

I was unsure whether he was always like that or whether it was just him trying to become detached from his emotions. Randall left the cave unarmed to find some sticks.

"Do you think we can trust him?" Sarah asked me when we were sure he would be well out of the way to hear.

"I imagine so." I replied. "To be honest, I think you could kill him in a few seconds if he even tried to get us."

Sarah smiled at my compliment and then she huddled closer to my arms. I felt slightly awkward in the situation, but it soon stopped when there was the sound of music. I shuffled away and peered my head out of the cave to the sky, which was illuminated and then began to show pictures of the dead.

Someone called Barbara Smith from District 2 was dead, which surprised me since she was from a richer district and would have been trained since she was young. Next was someone from District 4, a boy named Carl Powers. Then there was Jackie Hopkins from 7, and Lisa Dopp from 11. I was quite surprised two of the dead were from career districts. They were favoured in the games, as their districts supplied the Capitol with better resources, and they therefore had a better lifestyle than everyone else. I was even more shocked to realise that nobody from 12 had died, and also that only four people had been killed at the start. Normally there were a lot more people killed at the cornucopia, so it was unusual for it to be such a small number.

I was about to crawl back into the cave before I heard someone yelling for help not too far away, and I instantly recognised the voice to be Randall. I ran towards the voice, still remaining hidden in the trees as I went.

I approached a small clearing, and saw Randall becoming short of breath while an incredibly tall boy with no hair stood in front of him, choking him with his bare hands.

I was so shocked at the man that I could find words or motion to help Randall, even though he was reaching an arm out towards me, staring at me in desperation to save him. I backed up, still watching as Randall's body became limp and the large boy dropped him, dead, onto the floor. A canon fired. Next the boy turned to me, and I froze completely in my tracks. I was going to die, no doubt. It would probably be fairly slow and very painful, but maybe it wasn't the worse that could happen.

Suddenly, someone appeared and stabbed the boy in the leg, making him suddenly disorientated in his actions. He looked at me, then at the person who stabbed him. Stamford! The boy I had met in training who helped me to light the fire. The very large boy seemed to back away to my surprise, and pointed at us both without any words then ran away so quick.

"Are you okay, John?" Mike Stamford asked me. He glanced at Randall's body for a second then quickly averted his eyes.

"Yes, thank you for helping me then. We better move so Randall's body can be collected."

Stamford and I walked back to where Sarah was, and I let him do all of the talking as he told me about how he had gone straight for the cornucopia and almost got killed. He told me of how the girl from his district, Jackie Hopkins, died and was only twelve. I wasn't surprised she got killed so quickly.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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5

"Sarah?" I asked, walking into the cave.

"John!" she gasped, jumping up and hugging me tightly. "I thought you'd died! What happened?"

"Randall got killed," I told her, as I sat on the floor with her. "The guy who killed him was going to kill me too, but Stamford stopped him."

"Thank you," Sarah told Mike. "That was lovely of you to do."

Mike had a huge smile cross his face. "Well I'm guessing you guys need help lighting a fire?"

Sarah nodded her head and giggled, and then she and Mike went to collect sticks that we still didn't have.

I sat in silence in the cave and then checked my leg as it began hurting again. I had no visible wounds, but presumed that I had just pulled a muscle in it or something when I fell. Mike and Sarah weren't gone long, and returned to make the fire. We all sat in silence.

"So was Randall your ally?" Mike asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I suppose so, I mean we didn't know him for long and he didn't do much."

I glanced at Sarah who was asleep on the other side of the fire, and then we began to speak quieter.

"And are you going to find better allies?"

I laughed a little bit, "Who'd want me for an ally?"

Mike laughed more with the same big grin. "You're the second person to say that to me this week!"

"Oh?" I asked. "And who was the first?"

"Some boy from District 6," he told. "I met him in training because he caught my attention. He was trying to use a sword, and let's just say you don't want to get on the wrong side of him."

We didn't speak much after that, but I agreed to stay awake and watch for anyone else while Mike and Sarah slept. I found some extra sticks and began carving a bow and arrow, since I doubted I would be able to get my hands on one now and was in need of a weapon.

"You ought to put that fire out unless you want to be dead soon." A voice spoke, seemingly out of nowhere. It surprised me and I aimed my incomplete weapon in the direction of the voice.

"Oh, there will be no need for that."

A figure stepped into my vision, although still covered in a bit of shadow.

"Best not to take the chance," I replied, still aiming my weapon.

"You are taking a chance, the weapon you're making is nowhere near sharp enough to injure me, let alone kill," the boy told me, walking forward. He became lit up in the light of the fire so I could see his face properly. He had dark, curly hair and pale skin, with defined structure to his face. He was tall and thin, but then again most people were underweight in Panem.

"May I?" he asked, pointing to the fire, but began to put it out before I even agreed to it.

"District 9 or 10?" he asked.

"What?"

"Which one was it, 9 or 10?"

"10, sorry how did you...?" I was confused as to how he guessed so easily what district I was from.

"Sometimes I won't talk for long periods of time, would that bother you?" he asked me.

My level of confusion was high, but before I could even reply to the boy, Mike spoke.

"Oh, the boy from 6!" he smiled, rubbing his eyes with one hand after being woken up from his sleep.

"Hello again," the boy replied. He turned back to me then. "So would it bother you? Potential allies should know the worst about each other."

"Who said anything about allies?"

"I did." One corner of his mouth raised into a smile.

"So is that it? We've only just met and are going to be allies?" I said in response. "We don't know a thing about each other; I don't even know your name!"

The boy grinned then and suddenly the words raced out his mouth. "I know you're from district 10, you act strong, although that is probably just because you have had your fair share of pain in your life. You seem to live in misery, definitely with one person although it feels to you that you are alone, and that person is almost definitely a sibling. Oh, and the leg pain you've got is purely psychosomatic. The name is Sherlock Holmes, district 6." He winked at me when he finished speaking while I stared in utter amazement. I looked at Mike, who was also staring but not quite as surprised as me.

"He did that to me, too." Mike clarified.

"So how did you know all of that?" I was intrigued to know more.

"Well, you're slim but not the skinniest people in the games that I've seen so far, so clearly you get food better than those from 11 or 12, livestock is most likely. I saw your tape of being picked, you kept a formal behaviour throughout, perfectly straight posture and expressionless. When you were on the standing pod during the countdown you looked nervous and were not as formal so clearly you had been acting. Your act was so easily done that it could pass as truth rather than acting, so I can tell you've tried that on other people before so have been through some bad things. In your interview, you stated that you left your sister behind but mentioned no other family, and that confirmed my previous thought that you had no family which I got from the way nobody cried for your return when your name was picked at the reaping. Your leg pain doesn't seem to bother you until it's brought to your attention, so psychosomatic"

"That was extraordinary," I stated. "It was quite extraordinary."

Sherlock Holmes smiled at me again. "That's not what people normally say."

I smiled back at Sherlock Holmes. I had never met or even heard of anybody able to deduce people like that, and he couldn't possibly know any of my history since I had never seen him in my life.

"You need to sleep, I'll stay up and watch." He stated.

I realised then that I was tired but I had just been distracted, so agreed and lay down to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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6

I woke up in a panic. I had hoped I wouldn't have nightmares in the games, since everything we did was broadcasted to the people of Panem and me sitting there panicking about a dream would be embarrassing and do nothing for sponsors. The nightmare was about me killing people. I killed Sarah, I killed Mike, and I killed Sherlock. I wasn't sure which one affected me more. When I opened my eyes and realised I was not at home, but instead was lying on the floor of a bitterly cold cave, it was a shock and made me panic more.

"Are you okay?" Sherlock asked me, he sounded concerned.

"What?" I asked, sitting up and trying to calm myself down. "Yes, I'm fine... Are you? Do you need to sleep now?" I guessed it was the middle of the night.

"No, I'll be fine. I don't think I could sleep right now anyway."

I noticed Sherlock had completed the bow and arrow I had tried to make earlier, and then he passed it to me. "I got bored." He simply said.

"Thank you," I replied, examining the perfectly carved bow.

"So the girl there," Sherlock nodded his head in the direction of Sarah, who seemed to have moved closer to me while I slept. "She confessed to liking you in the interviews, but you didn't seem to show it back very well."

"What's that supposed to mean?" My reply was probably too quick.

Sherlock kept his eyes focussed on Sarah rather than me while he spoke. "When you were asked if the feelings were mutual, you hesitated."

"Do you think they'll broadcast this?" I asked, avoiding the question deliberately.

"Yes, most likely they will. And your answer?"

Clearly there was no way I could dodge a question Sherlock asked. "I don't know. I thought so but now I think I'm just realising she can be more threatening in these games than I can."

Sherlock seemed to laugh to himself. "She won't win."

I raised an eyebrow at Sherlock's confidence. "What makes you think that?"

"She seems more concerned about you than herself. It's a weakness, and if it came down to saving you or herself, she'd choose you."

My heart felt like it jumped at the realisation. I would feel guilty forever if I was reason she died. I then realised that I didn't feel the same way about her as she did about me.

"We should get water." Sherlock stated. "We could go now while it's still night, most tributes will be sleeping."

"What about Sarah and Mike?" I asked.

"They'll be fine."

I reached into the bag Sarah had got from the cornucopia and got the bottle out of it, picked up my new bow and arrow, then followed Sherlock out of the cave.

It didn't take us long to reach a small river, and I opened the bottle to fill with water.

"You're not just going to drink that like that are you?" Sherlock sounded like he knew something I didn't.

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"The boy from 4 drowned in this water a few hours ago," Sherlock began. "I was nearby, watched him as he began to drink it and then he had a fit in the water and drowned."

I stared at the bottle in my hands. "So the water is poisoned?"

"Yes, what else?" The tone in which Sherlock spoke was like he was speaking to somebody very stupid, and it was incredibly intimidating and irritating.

I turned away from Sherlock and began emptying the bottle back into the ocean, mumbling under my breath about how we couldn't all know everything.

"You didn't need to do that," Sherlock said, clearly trying to resist smiling. "Try this." He passed me a small bottle from a bag I didn't even realise he was carrying. It was one of the bags you received at the cornucopia.

"How did you get that?" I asked, as I began to put some drops of the unknown liquid into the water bottle after I refilled it.

"I waited until everyone left the cornucopia and the bodies had been collected, then just ran and got one. It wasn't that difficult."

"Is that water okay now?" I asked, looking into the bottle at the water which had now turned dark purple.

"Yes, I tried it earlier."

I began to drink some of the water before offering the bottle to Sherlock, who refused.

We walked back to the cave in silence to avoid any nearby tributes. I had my bow and arrow ready to fire if necessary.

A canon fired. It startled me for a second as I looked at Sherlock.

"Another one's down then."

"You don't think it was Sarah or Stamford?" I asked.

"No."

I felt a bit relieved at that, and then I heard voices in the distance. It was a male and female's voice. Sherlock seemed to be watching me as if he was observing how I act in the situation of being around unknown tributes.

"You don't feel too threatened," he told me. "Why?"

"I've got a bow and arrow."

"But do you know what they've got?" he asked. Then I realised that I didn't know what weapons the two tributes would have, but I didn't have to wait long to find out since they soon approached and stopped, staring at Sherlock and I.

"Ah, Anderson, right?" Sherlock asked the male, who looked around seventeen years old, the same age as Sherlock and I.

"How do you know my name?" He asked.

Sherlock laughed sarcastically. "Did you not realise I watched your interview, your scores, you being picked at the reaping."

"Nobody cares enough to know people's names though."

"Yes, but he's not normal." The girl alleged as she joined hands with Anderson. She must have been the same age as him.

"Thank you," Sherlock replied, bowing. I couldn't resist the smile that appeared on my face. "Oh, and you don't have much hope of getting out alive?"

"What makes you say that?" Anderson seemed to yell. He was very defensive.

"Well, you're holding her hand, Donovan wasn't it?"

The female nodded her head. "Sally."

"I don't care for your first name," Sherlock shushed. "But anyway, in your interview you stated you have a girlfriend back at home, lies or you just don't care?"

Anderson quickly released Sally's hand. "What does that have to do with me getting out of the games?"

"If you knew you would live, you wouldn't be showing a clear interest in Donovan, since your girlfriend at home would see it all every day on TV. Correct?"

"Now look, whatever you're implying-" Anderson began to defend.

"I'm not implying anything."

Sally narrowed her eyes and pulled on Anderson's arm. "Come on, let's go. He's not worth it."

They began to walk past us. "Freak," Sally accused Sherlock.

"That's weird," Sherlock said.

"What?"

"I haven't heard a hovercraft to collect the body."

"Maybe we're close to it?" I suggested.

We began to walk again, Sherlock was certain Anderson and Donovan hadn't killed the person, so the killer would be nearby. Then we stumbled across the body. She was lying flat out on the floor, but surprisingly had no wounds on her.

"Was it the water?" I suggested.

He lay down on the floor next to her and observed her. "Her mouth's dry, not water."

He looked around her for a bit longer. "Ah!" he smiled as he noticed a box on the floor. It contained two pills, both identical.

"You think it was them?" I asked Sherlock.

"Yes, but why would the killer leave them here?" His voice trailed off and he looked deep in concentration. "That's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?"

"Sherlock," I said. "I hate to interrupt your thinking but we should probably leave so the body can be collected."

"What? Oh, yes."

We began to walk back to the cave where we were earlier on, and discovered Mike and Sarah sat talking to each other. I gave them the bottle of water and the four of us sat in silence while Sherlock talked to himself about the pills.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

* * *

7

"We're going to need to get food," Mike spoke up. "I'll go, does anyone want to join me?"

Sarah volunteered and they both left to go and get food.

I didn't realise I was falling asleep, but the tiredness had caught up with me. I don't think I was asleep for long, but I woke up when I heard a canon again.

"Who now?" I asked in a sleepy tone to Sherlock.

"Could be anybody, really." I could tell he wasn't concentrating on what I had to say.

Then I heard Sarah's screams approaching, and I flew out of the cave where she crashed into me. "They killed Mike!"

"Who?"

"A boy and girl, about your age!" She sobbed. I instantly knew it was Anderson and Donovan. "They told us to give them the food we got or we'd be killed, but Mike just tried to protect me and they shot him with an arrow."

I lead Sarah into the cave and sat her down.

"Mike?" Sherlock asked without looking up.

"Yes," I replied.

"And we don't have food now?"

"Sherlock!" I yelled. "Mike has just died and you aren't even showing any emotion about it. We're in The Hunger Games, people are dying, and all you care about are those meaningless pills! There are lives at stake, Sherlock, actual human lives. Do you care about that at all?" I was waving my arms frantically in anger that he was so ignorant.

"Will caring about them help save them?"

I paused and realised he was probably right. Caring about anybody in The Hunger Games wouldn't save them, it would just make us more likely to die trying to save them.

The conversation was dropped, and I decided to go get the food by myself.

I walked away from the cave without really looking to see where I was going, and found a plant with some berries on them and began to pick them. I heard footsteps approaching behind me and spun around to face them.

I was greeted by a small boy who was incredibly unhealthy looking, and he didn't seem like a threat to me at all considering I was clearly a few years older than him and quite a bit bigger. He looked startled by my presence.

"I'm sorry," he stuttered, backing up. "Please don't kill me."

I raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to kill you. Are you alone?"

He nodded his head. "The girl from my district died, and I don't know who to trust in this place."

"You look hungry," I stated. He looked dehydrated too. "I'm getting some food, and I've got water back where I am with some others. Do you want to join us?"

He looked unsure, but then nodded his head. "Thank you."

"I'm John," I introduced. "From District 10."

"I'm Greg Lestrade, I'm from District 11." He smiled.

"How old are you Greg?"

"Fifteen," he told me.

"Oh, we're not that much different then. I'm seventeen. Hey, do you want to help me gather some of these berries?"

We collected quite a lot and took them back to the cave, where Sarah was lying down staring at the wall, and Sherlock was deep in thought.

"We got food," I broke the silence.

"We?" Sherlock asked, looking up and properly paying attention. "Who's that?"

"I'm Greg."

Sherlock rolled his eyes slightly and complained to himself about having another person to look after.

Everyone sat and ate some berries, which were basically tasteless. Sherlock took a bit of persuading before eating anything, saying he didn't need to eat.

The day went very slowly, but eventually the sky was dark. I hadn't heard many canons all day, in fact, not many people had died at all in the games by that point. Music boomed from the sky and the pictures of the dead were shown again. The woman with the pills was apparently called Jennifer Wilson from District 8, and then they shown Mike.

Later on, everyone but Sherlock and I had fallen asleep.

"Did you figure out whatever you were trying to work out about the pills?" I asked him.

"No," he sighed. "But I'd rather know who left them there than anything else."

"Well, you could use a trap or something to catch them." I suggested absent minded.

"Yes!" Sherlock said, sitting up straighter. "John that is the most intelligent thing that you have said all day."

"Thanks... I think."

"Yes, excellent. I'll go do it now." Sherlock beamed, and then he left the cave quickly.

"But Sherlock you've not slept for so long, can't it wait?" I whispered loudly behind him.

"No!" Then he was out of my sight.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

* * *

8

I sat awake waiting for Sherlock's return. I hadn't heard any canons so that gave me a bit of confidence. I was suddenly wondering if he would return to the cave at all, maybe he decided the alliance was a waste of his time. I felt strange thinking about it.

"John?" Lestrade was awake. "Where's Sherlock?"

"He decided to go find out who left the pills by Jennifer's body."

"What?" He gasped. "What if that person kills him?"

The realisation hit me that it was a possibility, and a very likely one. I needed to find Sherlock. "You stay, there's a knife in that bag for if anyone tries to attack." I grabbed my bow and arrow and ran out into the jungle. I couldn't just shout for Sherlock, but I didn't know how else to find him.

"Sherlock!" I yelled. There was no response, and so I decided to run around to look for him.

I approached the cornucopia and saw two figures stood near it. It had to be Sherlock.

What was he doing? I watched for a few seconds, it could be part of Sherlock's plan. He was talking to someone, and clearly staring at the bottle of the two pills.

"Let him get killed," someone said to me. I didn't even hear Anderson approach me from behind. He was pointing a knife at me and I aimed my arrow.

"I'll shoot, get back now," I ordered.

Anderson laughed. "Sally will just get you back, she's my ally."

"And Sherlock is mine."

He raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Not really, he doesn't really want you around, he just likes the backup, someone to talk to rather than himself."

I glanced back at Sherlock. He was holding one pill in the air. "Sherlock" I mumbled. He was going to take it.

"If you move, I'll kill you." Anderson growled.

I took a step back and he followed. I had to decide quickly whether to save Sherlock and kill Anderson or just let Sherlock die.

I looked back to Sherlock again, and to the person standing opposite him. The two of them began to raise the pills to their mouth.

"Sherlock!" I shouted.

I shot my arrow in the different direction and it killed the person with Sherlock instantly. A canon fired, and then I felt a stabbing pain in my arm.

"John!" Sherlock shouted.

I dropped my bow to the floor and held my arm in pain, while Sherlock seemed to throw the arrow that I had used to kill the other man with in my direction. Another canon fired.

"John? Are you alright?" Sherlock asked, he looked at my arm and then me.

"Yes," I replied. "Of course I'm alright." I moved my hand from my arm to see it covered in blood.

"You have just killed a man," Sherlock stated, clearly trying to take my mind off the pain in my arm. It worked, but I knew he was doing it because he doubted my survival in the arena with a deep cut that could get infected.

"Yes, but he wasn't a very nice man." I smiled at Sherlock.

Sherlock laughed a bit in response and then we quickly returned back to the cave so I could get my arm fixed up.

"What happened?" Sarah sounded overly bothered by the fact I was injured.

"Anderson cut my arm," I said, sitting on the floor. "Sherlock killed him though."

"And now Donovan has no ally," Sherlock smiled.

"So won't last long," I grinned back. At least Sherlock and I both shared a dislike for Anderson and Donovan.

Sarah helped me to wrap my arm up in some leaves which she said had healing things in them and she'd learnt that from training. I slept easier after that than I had any other night, and Sherlock finally slept too for the first proper time since the games started. I wondered how he could go so long without sleep, but I also wondered how he managed to do most things. The death rate was considerably small compared to other games. I couldn't push the thought of the capitol getting themselves involved out of my head. Surely they would be getting bored of seeing people sleeping and just surviving all of the time with no violent death. Something had to be happening soon.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

* * *

9

Early in the morning when I woke up, Lestrade and I went out to look for supplies. We caught two rabbits, found some berries which seemed safe, and got fresh water. When we were walking back to the cave that we were still staying at, Greg and I heard a sound in the distance that echoed loudly.

"Sounds like rocks falling," Greg said.

"Yeah, I wonder where it's coming from," I replied. Then it clicked in my mind. "The cave!"

Next we were running.

"Sherlock! Sarah!" I shouted before finding the cave collapsed. "I'm here, calm down," Sherlock said, walking from the side of the cave with dust coating his hair.

"Where's Sarah?" Lestrade asked, trying to look around him for her.

Sherlock stared at me and I instantly knew what he meant. A canon fired.

"What happened?" Lestrade asked after a pause as he realised it was Sarah's canon.

"It must have been controlled, the rocks were too heavy for someone to push and even if they could, the whole cave wouldn't have collapsed."

"So how did you get out so quickly?" this voice wasn't me and it wasn't Greg. Everyone turned to where we were faced by Donovan.

Sherlock glanced at her then back to me. "I was near the exit anyway, as the cave came crashing down the force sent me forwards and out of the cave," he stated. His voice was quick and he didn't take his eyes off me for the whole time.

"Oh yes, I'm sure."

I found myself having a growing hate towards Donovan, but I also couldn't understand why she hadn't even attempted to kill Sherlock or any of the rest of us so far.

"You're not bothered about Anderson's death," Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her.

She looked at him with a harsh look on her face. "Freak."

"You were only together for sponsors; it would look good to an audience to have a love story. They would want you to stay alive, so would send things to make that happen while you were together." A sly smile was appearing on Sherlock's face as he spoke. "Clever!" Then he looked back at me.

"And you're here with us now because you want allies," my tone was a mix between questioning and stating, but when I looked at Sherlock he was nodding his head to confirm.

"Well?" Sally put up a strong tone, but her voice was starting to sound desperate now.

"I don't see why not," Lestrade smiled. He was clearly someone who liked helping others.

Sally smiled quickly then looked to the ground to avoid Sherlock and my eyes.

The next few hours were eventless. I wondered why nothing had happened and why the Capitol hadn't tried to do anything about it, but it wasn't a big complaint. Sally didn't have much use as an ally and certainly wasn't as good company as Sarah was. She definitely didn't like being in the presence of Sherlock, and made no effort to hide that. Sherlock didn't hide how much he didn't like being around her either. Surviving didn't seem all that difficult since we had fresh food and water supply from earlier in the morning. We cooked a rabbit when everyone was hungry, and shared it out between us to ration it so the other food was a backup source. We couldn't afford to take any chances in the arena.

* * *

A/N: sorry this chapter is so short, but my writing tends to be inconsistent in length so please do forgive that... big thank you to anyone actually reading this fic, it means so much to me. Reviews are very appreciated! X


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

* * *

10

I decided to take the shift for staying awake while everyone else slept. Sherlock did sleep once again, I think because he realised the games would probably become exciting soon and he wanted to be awake enough to see it all. That was considered good to Sherlock, since things would be on his mind and he wouldn't be bored. We had found somewhere else to sleep, hidden in a collection of trees quite out of the way from the cornucopia. We weren't completely hidden, which was why it was more necessary now to have a night watch.

I didn't even realise what was happening when someone's hand flew over my mouth and the other grabbed my hands so I couldn't find my weapon.

"Don't panic Mr Watson," the voice was calm but that was exactly what made me frightened. "If you make any noise I will kill your allies."

I was forced to my feet and lead away from the group in silence, knowing I was probably going to die but at least it would spare them some time. While I walked with my abductor, I was thinking of whether my allies would save me, forget me, or try to kill the person who now seemed to be tying my hands around a tree. Would Sherlock care? I doubted it considering his indifferent reaction to Sarah's death earlier on.

"In a daze?" the same voice asked me. I snapped into reality and now saw two figures, however I could not see their faces from the darkness covering the arena.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice shaking. I had intended for it to sound aggressive but it turned out as me sounding like a small child.

One laughed. "Your friend will come for you, and you will say what I want you to say. Understood?"

I nodded my head. I dreaded what would happen though, and who was my friend?

"I'm going to untie you from the tree and I will be stood behind you telling you what to say. You will say nothing but what I tell you to. If you don't, or try to run, you won't get very far." He pointed towards someone nearby pointing an arrow right at my chest from a short distance away.

"Also, you might not want to move much because you haven't checked where you're standing."

I looked down to see that I was stood on one of the metal plates from the beginning of the games. We were all clearly told before the games that if we stepped off of them before the timer hit zero, we would be killed instantly. How my abductors had moved it to this location and set it up to work again confused me, but it wouldn't matter how they managed it if I died like that. I nodded my head as the two people walked out of my sight, the person with the arrow still clearly aiming for me.

"John?" Sherlock's voice sounded concerned and then I could see him bursting out from the trees in search of me. He froze in his tracks and looked at me as I stood seemingly calm. "What the hell?"

His eyes were directed to the floor for a second and then he began to rush towards me.

"Bet you never saw this coming," the voice behind me instructed.

"Bet you never saw this coming," I repeated, staring Sherlock in the eyes. He had now stopped walking to me and was stood still again.

"What would you like me to make him say next?" I asked Sherlock, although it was not my question but the person instructing me.

"Stop it," Sherlock had definitely caught on to what was happening.

"I can stop John Watson too," I said. My voice was shaky as I stared at Sherlock. "Stop his heart."

My heart was beating quicker than it ever had, and Sherlock was watching me, looking troubled on what he should do in the situation.

"Who are you?" Sherlock shouted.

The person stepped from around the tree, and I could finally see his face as it had gotten lighter out. Obviously this entertained the Capitol and they wanted to be able to see it all better.

"Jim Moriarty," he introduced with a sly smile. "District 3."

Sherlock looked at me. "You alright?"

I glanced at Jim Moriarty, who sarcastically sighed and smiled, "You can talk Johnny boy. Your bomb is off."

"Sherlock, run!" I yelled, throwing myself at Moriarty, who to my surprise, just laughed.

I looked over to the person who was aiming the arrow, which was now facing Sherlock. My heart almost stopped so I let go of Moriarty and stayed watching Sherlock. I could have gotten him killed. The arrow was once again facing me.

Sherlock seemed like he was going to step towards me before Moriarty raised a hand to stop him, "I will burn the heart out of you, Sherlock."

Sherlock smiled at the comment. "I've been reliably informed that I don't have one."

"Interesting. It didn't look like that with how you flew to John's rescue," Moriarty raised an eyebrow. "Well, I better be off. I've got some people to steal from."

"Catch you later," Sherlock dragged his words as Moriarty walked off into the collection of trees. The person with the arrow had also gone, so Sherlock and I were alone.

I wasn't expecting it when Sherlock's arms were thrown around me into a hug.

For someone who would seem so cold to others, his hug was warm, but at that moment shocked me.

"I'm glad no-one here saw that," I smiled when Sherlock released me. "People might talk."

"People do little else," he smiled back at me.

I was comforted by the fact Sherlock had come to my rescue, although I did wonder how he knew I was in trouble.

"How did you know?" I asked as we walked together back to where we left the others sleeping.

"A canon fired, I woke up and you were gone."

I kept my eyes focused on the floor, thinking of whether my immediate response to hearing a canon would be to check where Sherlock was. He was a truly extraordinary boy.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

* * *

11

Sherlock and I didn't get back to where we left everyone as quickly as we thought since Sherlock stopped in his tracks and threw his arm in front of me to prevent me walking any further.

"What?" I asked, but he was listening.

"Punch me in the face."

"Punch you?" it was a strange request.

Sherlock sighed then punched me, making me attack him back.

"Okay, I think that's enough now." Sherlock stated, blocking a punch easily.

"Somebody loves you," a female voice spoke. My head snapped up to the direction, where I saw a shadow of a girl leaning against a tree. "I'd avoid the nose and teeth too."

Sherlock didn't seem alarmed at the voice. "Irene Adler, District 1."

"You noticed me," she announced slyly, stepping into the light.

She had dark hair and pale skin, and her bright red lipstick was radiating considering she had been in the arena for a few days. "Does that make me special?" she grinned.

I raised both eyebrows and watched Sherlock, who was completely expressionless.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"Protection."

"We're in the Hunger Games," I rushed my words. "We're in the Hunger Games meaning we can't protect you much than you can protect yourself."

"So why do you have allies?" she didn't take her eyes off of mine.

There was a long silence before Sherlock broke in. "You've got an ally already."

"What?" Irene and I both asked at the same time.

"Oh please," Sherlock sighed. "She's standing right over there..."

Irene looked amazed. "Kate, come out from hiding."

Another girl stepped out who looked younger than Irene but probably only by a year.

"She's from District 5, before you ask." Irene smiled, looking towards Kate.

"Why do you want protection if you have someone with you?" I asked them.

Irene rolled her eyes.

"There's someone out to get her in here," Sherlock began. "Someone who would easily kill her if they found her and Kate wouldn't last five minutes without her either."

Kate looked insulted but Irene just held her hand, smiling at Sherlock's intelligence.

"Clever boy," she said softly. "So will you help us?"

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and walked around them.

"Do you want me to beg?" Irene almost yelled.

I watched Sherlock who didn't react to her comment and was just walking away from them casually.

"Please."

Sherlock stopped and looked at me, and I was trying to read his expression with no hope, then he continued to walk. I tried to avoid making eye contact with the two girls as I followed Sherlock.

We were walking back to where we left everybody else and were out of sight from Irene and Kate, when a question sprung to my mind. "How did you know they were there?"

"It wasn't hard, there were footsteps on the ground leading towards the trees, and I knew they were still there because I saw Kate's shadow not too far away. Easy."

"Amazing..." I mumbled to myself. I saw Sherlock smile at my comment from the corner of my eye.

We didn't get very far away before we heard screams.

"Sherlock!" it was Irene's voice.

Sherlock spun in his steps and we were both running back to the girls, faced by a large boy who had his hands wrapped tightly around Kate's neck while Irene was punching him repeatedly in attempts for rescue, but he stood completely still and fixed to the ground. I recognised the large boy. He was the one who killed Randall, and would have killed me if it wasn't for Mike Stamford.

Sherlock threw an arrow straight at the Golem's hand, an arrow I didn't even notice he had with him, and the man dropped Kate onto the floor and began to walk towards us. His extreme height let him get to us quickly compared to anybody else, and he was soon reaching his hands out to grab Sherlock after having pulled the arrow out of his hand and dropping it on the floor. Everything happened quickly. Irene cried loudly when the canon fired, and my main concern was to just help Sherlock after seeing how easily Randall was killed. I threw myself at the Golem and tried to get him away from Sherlock. I wrapped my arms around his throat and pulled back as much as I could, trying to save my ally. I didn't seem to need to do much as the man soon fell and a canon fired. To my surprise, I hadn't killed him but instead Irene had. She had grabbed the arrow and stabbed the boy .

"Sherlock, are you alright?" I asked.

He simply brushed his clothes down and looked at me with an obvious look. "Of course!" It was his voice that ruined it for him though, which was now croaky, but I decided not to point it out since his expression changed to shock and disappointment as soon as he heard his own voice.

Irene was expressionless, although she was clearly trying not to look at Kate's lifeless body lying on the floor. "Let's get away from here," was all she said, and began to walk away.

Sherlock and I followed her in complete silence until we were finally back to where we were meeting everyone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

* * *

12

When we arrived back to our allies, Greg was distributing berries for everyone to eat.  
"The freak is back," Sally commented slyly.  
"Careful," Sherlock replied dryly. "You still need an ally."  
Sally had a look of realisation and frustration on her face as she looked away. She seemed to mutter something under her breath but I didn't catch a word of it.  
Irene had sat down leaning against a tree and her head was buried in her hands. I doubted she would last long now because she presented an emotion of having no reason to stay alive. I couldn't help but wonder how her life was back at home, whether she was happy or alone.  
"Berries?" Greg asked me, holding a handful in my direction. I took them, thanked him and began to eat them, which made me realise how hungry I actually felt. I noticed Sherlock refuse to eat any as he sat down with his eyes shut.  
"You need to eat," I told him, taking most of the berries from one of my hands and holding them out to him. He opened one eye and looked at me with what seemed to be disappointment.  
"Why do you give me more than you leave yourself?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and not taking his eyes off mine.  
I shrugged.  
He seemed to smile a little bit before taking just one berry and pushing my own hand back to me. "Eat." He instructed.  
As I was eating the berries, and trying to get Sherlock to eat some more too, I was thinking about how these games had turned out differently than expected. People had died, people I knew, but I didn't have time to cry over their deaths and feel sad because something else would happen. I thought back to the previous games I had watched, thinking about the people that are driven mad by power of killing, people who stay completely pacifist and just try to survive without killing, how people believe things throughout the games which are then turned against them. My heart felt like it sunk with the final thought. I turned my head slightly and stared at Sherlock, who sat right next to me with his eyes closed. He wasn't sleeping, he was probably thinking. I then looked at the others in the group we sat with. I was almost definitely not friends with Sally, she was sly and I was certain there was another side to her than she was showing. Greg seemed nice, and when I saw him I thought of how innocent he seemed. He clearly did not plan on killing anybody unless his life depended on it. But I still realised that Sherlock would be the person whose company I enjoyed most, although I wasn't too sure why. He was my best ally, so I believed. The thought of people falling for fake images began to worry me, but I soon snapped out of it when I notice something different. Irene was gone.  
"Sherlock?" I asked. "Where's Irene gone?"  
Sherlock suddenly opened his eyes and didn't seem as calm as before, like he was genuinely concerned for where she was. "She's gone that way," he stated, standing up and rushing off. I almost tripped over my own feet as I stood up and followed him like a dog obeying its owner. He wasn't the easiest person to keep up with, and I was running behind him.  
"Come on John!" he encouraged me to run faster. At least he cared where I was and not just Irene.  
Sherlock stopped in his tracks and I began to slow down.  
"Molly?" he asked. "You're still alive."  
A young girl came into my sight that only looked around 13. She was staring at us like a deer that has just seen the arrow flying through the air towards it. "Sherlock."  
She looked nervous, and was holding a knife tightly, keeping it extra close to herself.  
"How are you still alive?" Sherlock asked. I was sure he didn't mean it offensively, but it did sound it.  
The girl, Molly, didn't seem insulted by his comment. "I can see being in the games hasn't changed your attitude," she giggled. She stopped when she finally caught sight of me. "Who's he? I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. It wasn't meant to sound rude." She stuttered as she spoke like she didn't think her words properly before saying them.  
"John Watson," I smiled awkwardly, reaching to shake hands with her. "I'm from District 10."  
"Molly Hooper, from 6." She looked at Sherlock quickly then back to me, like she was full of fear and anxiety and needed the reassurance of him.  
"You're from Sherlock's district," I declared.  
Molly nodded her head then turned her attention back to Sherlock. "Do you have more allies?" she asked. "Have you..." she paused and looked nervous again. "Have you killed anyone?"  
Sherlock seemed to look right past her as he spoke, "Molly we are in the Hunger Games, so do you think I wouldn't?"  
Molly was clearly uncomfortable with Sherlock's rhetorical question.  
"Yes, we have more allies," I responded to Molly's first question. "In fact we were just looking for one who we lost."  
"The dark haired girl?" Molly asked.  
"Which way did she go?" Sherlock asked in a serious tone.  
"She ran past me about five minutes ago," Molly began and began to point past us. "She went tha-"  
Her voice was cut off with the sound of a canon firing through the arena.  
"Irene..." I said in an unsure way.  
Sherlock nodded his head.  
"I wonder what happened," I muttered.  
"Most likely she didn't try to defend herself."  
The three of us stood in silence for a minute.  
"You can stay with us," Sherlock told Molly. "Come on, we should go back to the others."


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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13

There was a piercing scream coming from not too far away.  
"Help!" someone was begging, and their voice sounded like it was getting closer.  
"Sherlock?" I asked loudly. I didn't really know what I expected him to say.  
Without anyone saying another word, a body came crashing through the trees and slamming into Molly, knocking her to the floor.  
Molly scrambled away from the person, who also seemed to be doing the same with her. It was a young boy who looked truly terrified, and he was crying and covering his eyes.  
"Kill me," he yelled. "Kill me!"  
What Molly did was unexpected; she walked to the boy and comforted him. "It's okay, everything will be okay, just tell us who you're running from."  
"The boy from 5," the crying boy said between catching his breath.  
"What is he fighting with?" Sherlock interrupted before Molly could continue speaking.  
"A knife," he answered. "But he cut a nest of Tracker Jackers too, they killed a girl who was nearby but I got away with one sting."  
I looked at Sherlock for confirmation and he nodded his head once to me.  
"I lost my friend," the boy said. "She was looking for food; I need to find her again."  
"What's your name?" I asked him.  
"Henry Knight."  
"District 12," Sherlock said, much to Henry's confusion.  
"How did you..."  
"He does that." Molly smiled. Sherlock didn't acknowledge her.  
"We'll find your friend, but first you need to rest and get the sting healed before you do anything else," I told Henry.  
The four of us walked together, Molly and Henry walking behind Sherlock and I.  
"How do you know about the stings?" Sherlock asked me as we walked.  
"I remember watching one of the games from a long time ago, someone got stung by them and died, and they also induce powerful hallucinations, since one tribute seemed to think an enemy was somebody else, which lead to their death."  
Sherlock looked impressed by me remembering that. "Of course, that was the last games that someone from District 12 won."  
"Yeah, didn't she trick someone into eating poisonous berries?" I asked.  
"Yes, probably not the most gruesome death to end the games," Sherlock seemed to giggle and it made me smile that we somehow managed to find something to lighten the mood of being in a fight until one person made it out alive. _One person_. I found myself watching Sherlock, who quickly noticed, as we walked back.  
"What?" he asked, the smile suddenly dropping off his face when he noticed my sad expression.  
"One person makes it out alive of this arena," I said in a tone so low it was almost a whisper. "Who's it going to be?"  
I didn't get a reply, instead we were in a dead silence, so silent that I felt like if I didn't hear more noise soon I would go crazy. Maybe I was already going crazy. I was trusting complete strangers with my life, and that was definitely stupid. I began to think about Harriet back at home, whether she would still be drinking as she watched the games, whether she would quit, but most importantly- what she would do if I didn't come home. Nobody would be there to look after her anymore.  
I covered my face with my hands as I walked and then just stared my feet beneath me.  
Soon we were back with Greg and Sally, who were both sat quite far away from each other and not speaking a word.  
"How many more people are you bringing back for us to look after?" Sally complained.  
"In case you didn't notice, you tagging along with us was one of the most recent." I commented. That made her quiet.  
The arena became dark quickly, and by that time most of us were in desperate need of sleep. Molly and Greg seemed to lie fairly close to each other, as they had been talking and getting along well while everyone had been sat together. Henry and Sally both sat separately and alone, and Henry occasionally seemed to mumble and I was pretty sure he was hallucinating occasionally. The sound of music filled the arena as the faces of the dead for the day came up. When Irene's face was shown I felt some kind of guilt that I couldn't do anything to help her.  
My eyes felt like they were trying to shut without my permission, like I hadn't slept in so long.  
"Go to sleep John," Sherlock instructed. "I'll stay awake tonight."  
"You need to sleep too," I told him. "Wake me up as soon as you get tired and then I'll keep watch."  
"There's no need for that," he seemed to smile. "Sleep."  
I didn't even feel like I could answer him because I was so tired, and lay down next to where he sat and quickly drifted asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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14

When I woke up it was daylight. I glanced across to see Greg awake and talking with Molly. Sally and Henry were both asleep still, and then I turned slightly to see Sherlock asleep next to me too. I couldn't help but stare at him for a minute before my name was spoken.  
"John?" Molly asked. "Are we going to find Henry's friend today?"  
I quickly faced her and nodded my head. "We'll have to wait until Henry's awake though. Sherlock and I will go find her with him and you can stay here with Greg and Sally."  
Molly nodded her head but looked slightly disappointed, most likely because she wanted to spend time with someone she actually knew rather than two people she had just met.  
Sherlock woke up soon after the conversation, and then Henry did too and the three of us set off to look for his friend, Louise, who had come from his district.  
"There are only two districts with both tributes still alive now," Sherlock observed. "Only ten of us altogether."  
That thought made me feel a bit sick. A few days ago, there had been twenty-four of us and now there were just ten. My feelings were soon distracted when Henry called out Louise's name and had a response.  
"Henry?" The voice was very close, and soon the girl appeared. "Henry, you're still alive!" She grinned, embracing him in a hug.  
"Where did you go?" Henry asked her in a panicked tone.  
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you."  
Henry didn't answer but held her in a tighter hug again.  
"Well, we should be going back now," I said, feeling awkward just standing there watching them hugging.  
They let each other go and we began to walk back to the group, until we heard screaming.  
"Molly," Sherlock said, and was suddenly running. I raced to catch up with him but we soon slowed down upon hearing a canon fire and the screaming stopped.  
Sherlock seemed emotionless. Then there was another canon.  
"Who was that?" I asked.  
Sherlock didn't seem confident in his answer and his voice shook but I pretended not to notice. "Donovan or Lestrade, it could be either."  
We began running again, with Henry and Louise following us. When we returned, there were no signs of any bodies as they had already been taken, only small puddles of blood. I bit my lip and looked away, realising that it was definitely people I had only seen a few minutes ago.  
"It wasn't me," Lestrade spoke, stepping slowly out behind a tree into our sight, an arrow aimed at us in his arms. "Please don't kill me."  
"We're not going to," I told him. "What happened?"  
His eyes were glazed over and he took a moment before he began to speak. "Sally just turned. I don't know why, we weren't even speaking to each other and then she just attacked. She got me in the leg," he pointed to his thigh which was bleeding quite heavily. "Molly screamed, but that didn't last long because then Sally just..." he looked away from us and moved one of his fingers across his throat.  
"And you killed Sally?" I asked.  
"Yes," he nodded his head but looked full of guilt. I presumed it was more likely because he couldn't save Molly, since he seemed to have taken a liking to her. "It was self-defence. I needed to do it."  
We didn't ask for the details and the conversation was dropped.  
Later, we had hunted and cooked a rabbit and everyone was eating it. We were lucky to have found good food supplies.  
"We should put the fire out quickly before someone takes it as a way to find us," Sherlock sighed. He looked cold, but most of us did too. The arena had been significantly colder within the past few hours. Sherlock had suggested that they were trying to get some of us to die from illness quicker, and I feared that he would be doing exactly that soon. Daylight hours seemed shorter, clearly because the Capitol wanted to end the games soon. Maybe people were getting bored. I wouldn't be surprised if they were, considering there hadn't been much of a bloodbath at any time.  
Henry and Louise decided to go find some more berries in the light before it got completely dark, so we would have new food to wake us up in the morning.  
Lestrade sat alone next to where the fire had been, staring at the smoke as it rose into the sky. He seemed deep in thought. Sherlock and I were sat not too far away, close enough to rescue him if he needed it yet far enough to run away if we needed to.  
The arena was beginning to be covered in darkness. That was when it was unbearably cold, and the three of us were shivering. Sherlock was definitely trying not to shiver so that he didn't appear weak, but it was so cold that it would have been difficult for anyone, even him.  
"You look freezing," I said between shivers.  
Sherlock looked at me and shook his head. "I'm fine." He wasn't fine.  
Lestrade looked cold, but he looked lost and helpless, like a small, innocent child. I didn't think it was so much that he had lost Molly, since he hadn't known her very longer, but more the realisation that he had killed someone. He killed someone with a life just like his, someone who was just trying to get out of the arena alive to be reunited with their normal life, even if things would never be "normal" again.  
I jumped when I felt Sherlock's arms slowly wrap around me.  
"You're cold," Sherlock frowned.  
"So are you," I almost laughed.  
We stayed in complete silence. The moment was relaxing, almost abnormally calm for the games. It typically didn't last long, and the silence was broken by a canon fire.  
"Who?" I asked.  
Sherlock didn't answer and was still sat shivering, but it was then that I noticed how awful he looked. I became aware that his skin was dramatically paler, and his hands almost looked blue.  
"Sherlock?!" I yelled, shaking his shoulders. His response was barely audible.  
"Hypothermia," Lestrade told me, seeming calm as he walked towards us.  
"He's going to die, we need to help him!" I panicked, trying to help Sherlock to his feet. "We need to find somewhere less open to go, we need to light a fire and do everything we can to keep him alive."  
Lestrade threw one of Sherlock's arms over his shoulders like I had and we dragged him as fast as we could to somewhere to save him.  
"Sherlock, don't die. Please don't die," I begged him. I couldn't lose the person I trusted most in the arena.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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15

We found a cave and Greg began to light a fire while I wrapped my arms around Sherlock. I knew my heat wasn't much better than his, but I knew he couldn't be exposed to the warm fire so quickly.  
I kept trying to speak to him in the hopes that he would respond but he didn't. The warm fire made his skin regain normal colour, and his shivering died down yet he still didn't make sense when he could speak.  
"Greg, the others will be looking for us. You should go back and tell them where we are, I can't leave him alone here but we can't leave them out there alone either." I told Lestrade.  
He seemed unsure about going alone but soon disappeared out into the darkness.  
"Sherlock, are you okay?" I asked, speaking calmly so he didn't respond negatively to my fright.  
He nodded his head slowly and opened his eyes. "Why are you hugging me so tightly?" he smiled slightly and I let him go.  
"We thought you had hypothermia, you needed warming up," I stuttered.  
Sherlock was unreadable. You couldn't tell how he felt from what he looked like at all.  
"I'm afraid John."  
"What?" I asked.  
"My body's betraying me," he continued.  
"Calm down Sherlock," I comforted.  
"I can't John," he snapped. "Being in this arena is destroying me."  
"It'll be fine Sherlock," I tried to reassure him.  
"No, it's not going to be fine."  
I wasn't sure how to react to him. "Yeah, okay. Why would you listen to me? I'm just your friend."  
"I don't have friends." Sherlock snarled, emphasizing the last word.  
I couldn't deny that I was hurt. "No, I wonder why?"  
I stood up and walked out of the cave, leaving Sherlock to himself.  
"That's okay, it's not like I've just saved your life or anything," I mumbled to myself, kicking the floor.  
I began to hear Greg's voice getting gradually louder, "John!" he was shouting. "Henry killed Louise!"  
"What?" I gasped when he was finally in my sight, panting to catch his breath from running.  
"He killed Louise, but I think he did it thinking it was someone else. He's in a weird state of insanity or something right now." He told me.  
"We should go find him," Sherlock spoke, emerging from the cave like the previous confrontation had not taken place a minute ago.  
I nodded my head once and walked away quickly, wanting to stay far away from Sherlock. I knew that trusting people in the arena was a stupid mistake, why would I even think he liked me? I was nothing to him. I wasn't a comfort, I wasn't a protector, I wasn't nearly as intelligent as he seemed, and I was clearly not his friend.  
I soon heard Henry's cries.  
"Just kill me now!"  
"Henry?" I yelled, running now to find him and save him.  
He didn't respond but the air was full of his screams and desperate cries for his pain to end. A canon fired and the screams stopped. I kept running, determined to find who Henry's killer was.  
I saw the hovercraft and that gave me the idea of which direction the killer must've come from. It surprisingly did not take long to find him, since I spotted someone darting through the forest. They were going towards the cornucopia.  
"This way!" I shouted to Sherlock and Greg running somewhere behind me. We were about to run into the open space at the cornucopia, when the boy stopped running.  
He turned his head to me slightly, expressionless, lifted his foot and blew up.  
"Someone has re-planted the land mines from our launch plates," Sherlock stated. "Clever."  
I was still in shock and my ears were ringing from the loud explosion so hardly heard the canon fire. I turned away from the cornucopia and continued walking into the forest again.  
I sat on the ground and covered my face in my hands. I had seen too much while being in the games and it had been bad enough watching it every year. It is completely different to see it in real life. A tear rolled down my face thinking about it. I wanted it over.  
"John?" I looked up quickly and saw Lestrade and Sherlock watching me nervously.  
"I'll just go over there..." Lestrade said, pointing away awkwardly then disappearing. Sherlock sat next to me and stared at the ground as he spoke like he didn't know what he was doing.  
"What I said before John, I meant it," he began. I stared at him in disbelief. "I don't have friends; I've just got one."  
I nodded once and rotated myself so my back was facing him.  
"John, you are amazing! You are fantastic!" Sherlock was practically yelling at me.  
"Yes alright," I couldn't help but laugh.  
My laughter was cut off by the sound of another canon.  
"Lestrade," Sherlock and I both said at the same time.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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16

We stood up and looked around but there was no sign of him or someone who could have killed him nearby.  
"Do you hear that?" Sherlock whispered suddenly. I shook my head, since my ears had still not fully recovered from the loud explosion.  
"Footsteps. Take my hand," he said, not giving me much choice in the matter and ran off with me.  
"People are definitely going to talk," I said as we were running through the trees.  
Sherlock seemed to laugh once at my remark, and then we were suddenly at an empty cave.  
Sherlock released my hand and we both sat down in the far corners of the dark, damp, dusty cave.  
"How many of us are left?" I asked since I had lost track.  
"Four, including us both," Sherlock answered me. He opened a bag he had over his shoulder that I had not previously noticed and pulled some berries out of it, dropping them into my hand. "Eat."  
I ate the berries without thought since I was actually hungry, but Sherlock was not.  
"You're not eating anything?" I asked.  
"Why would I eat if I'm not hungry?" he smiled.  
It was getting dark outside quickly, since the games would soon be over and I imagined the capitol would try and end it as quickly as they could since they had failed in their attempts to earlier, although there had been more deaths recently.  
I heard the music and stuck my head out of the cave to look at the faces in the sky. The boy who had killed Henry was called Bob Frankland from District five.  
It was almost shocking at how many people had died in that one day. I crawled back into the cave and sat next to Sherlock.  
"Are you upset about Molly?" I wondered. "I mean, she was from your district."  
Sherlock looked at me straight in the eyes. "Molly was my neighbour and she had been since we were born. She was always nice to me, even when I say things that aren't that nice. She was always looking out for people in our district, and I was one of those people. She wanted everyone to be happy. I don't think she'd want me to be sitting here crying over her death when I could also be dead soon."  
"Don't say that."  
"Don't say what?" Sherlock asked, looking confused at my quick response.  
"That you could be dead soon," I replied, suddenly realising how stupid I probably sounded.  
"John, there needs to be three more deaths in this arena, one person gets out."  
I shook my head and bit my lip. "I won't be the one who escapes."  
Sherlock seemed a little bit hurt by my response and changed the subject. "You're tired, you need to sleep."  
I was tired and there was no denying it. I lay down on the floor next to him and began to drift to sleep, and the shock of feeling Sherlock's arm rest on me was comforting. It didn't take long to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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17

It must have been the middle of the night when I woke up. I rubbed my eyes and moved slightly, realising Sherlock's arm was no longer on me. When I sat up, I looked around, not seeing Sherlock anywhere.  
"Sherlock?" I asked, climbing out of the exit for the cave.  
My heart was racing, wondering where he had gone and why he had left me alone. Maybe he was done with the whole friend thing, maybe he never even meant it. I shook my head and avoided the thought. I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't know whether to stay and wait in case Sherlock Holmes returned or whether to go and look for him.  
"Come with me," a female voice instructed me.  
I spun around to where a small girl stood, facing an incredibly sharp arrow at my chest.  
"No."  
She smiled slyly. "John, don't think you can trust everybody in these games not to kill you."  
"Didn't plan on it," I answered, twisting on my heels and darting away.  
I could hear her chasing after me, but she was nowhere near as quick a runner as I was. I was heading towards the cornucopia, which may not have been a brilliant idea since it was the most open place in the arena. When I arrived, what I saw was unexpected. Moriarty, the boy from three, was stood with Sherlock, both stood simply face to face.  
I wanted to know what was going on, but I didn't want them to know I was there. I ran around the back of the cornucopia before they could see me, and I was close enough to hear what they were saying.  
"You're not going to win these games, and I will defeat you before you can defeat me," that was Sherlock.  
"Nah, you talk big." Moriarty almost laughed. "You're ordinary."  
"Jim!" That was the female who tried to kill me, and her voice was getting closer. "He got away- he ran here!"  
"You _idiot," _he snarled. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now."  
The girl didn't respond.  
"Tell me!" Moriarty shouted.  
I thought I heard a faint cry in the girls' voice as she spoke. "Because I can tell you where he is right now."  
"Where is John Watson?"  
"Behind the-" She was cut off mid sentence and I heard a canon.  
"If you follow me Sherlock, I will kill you at an instant, do you hear me?" Moriarty said.  
There was no reply, and I knew I was going to die. I wouldn't get to say goodbye to Sherlock.  
I sat perfectly still, waiting for what would soon happen to me. Moriarty was stood next to me, looking at me like I was the prey and he was the predator.  
"Oh John," he smiled. "You can't save Sherlock and you can't save yourself. Sad, isn't it?"  
"Just get it over with," I yelled, my voice broke at one point though.  
"What? Why would I want to do that?" he grabbed my arm. "It would end the fun too quickly."  
He practically dragged me around the cornucopia then, but what we both saw was unexpected. Sherlock was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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18

"Stupid move, Sherlock!" Moriarty yelled. "Now poor John is going to have to suffer even longer. It's going to be a slow, painful death."  
Moriarty pushed me onto the floor and I was completely defenceless with no weapons. I tried to push him away as he slowly dragged a blade across my arm, then across my face. I was going to die and I knew it.  
"I hope Sherlock wins," I managed to say.  
That comment got me a kick in the stomach, then a kick in my ribs.  
I was curled up in pain, but what came next was even worse as I felt the sharp knife stab into one of my shoulders. I could feel blood dripping down my arm and grabbed onto the wound with my other hand.  
"I'm going to find Sherlock now," Moriarty smiled at me. "And you're going to watch each other die."  
He tied my arms up and left me bleeding in the middle of the open ground as he went to find where Sherlock was.  
"Sherlock," I mumbled, trying to prevent myself from crying.  
"I'm here John," I saw him kneel next to me on the floor and his eyes looked red. "You're not going to die, not like this, not here."  
"Moriarty has gone looking for you," I spoke. "You need to go, you need to save yourself."  
Sherlock shook his head. "No."  
"Okay, shut up Sherlock, shut up," I snapped, although my anger was mainly from the pain I was trying to ignore. "The first time we met-the first time we met, you told me to put the fire out so I wouldn't be killed by someone who found me, right?"  
Sherlock nodded his head.  
"So now I'm doing the same for you. Go and save yourself so you're not found and killed."  
Sherlock wiped a tear quickly that slid down from his eye.  
"Well isn't this emotional!" It was Moriarty, and he was smiling and clapping slowly like he had seen something good. "I must say boys, you do put on a good show for the Capitol. I'm also insulted at how you think I am _stupid_, like I really thought Sherlock Holmes would leave John Watson injured and risk me killing him..."  
"Back off," Sherlock shouted, pointing the arrow that I had previously seen the girl with at him.  
Moriarty pulled a dramatic face. "What are you going to do Sherlock, kill me?" he laughed.  
"Yes," Sherlock answered.  
"Oh, I don't think so."  
I blinked and then next minute Sherlock had a knife flying towards him. Luckily, Moriarty's aim of his throw was slightly off, and the result of the knife was simply a slash across his cheekbone.  
"Really?" Sherlock asked. "Because it seems to me that you'd much rather have someone else do your killing work for you, now who have you got?"  
"You win," Moriarty sighed, but then gradually smiled again. "Except of course, you don't really win. If I die, that leaves only you two. John isn't injured enough to die, so one of you will have to kill the other and witness the death. Not to mention it would be violent, you can't just eat some poison and have it over with."  
"There's Nightlock berries in the arena," Sherlock stated. "We can take those and we won't last a minute longer."  
"Of course! And if you've got them, you've got a way out. Well, good luck with that," Moriarty grinned, then took a handful of the berries from his pocket and ate them before Sherlock could stop him. The canon fired.  
Sherlock grabbed his own face with his hands and then stared at me, still lying on the ground watching everything.  
"Do you think it was all of it?" I asked him, struggling to find words in agony.  
"I know it was all of the Nightlock."  
"Kill me Sherlock," I told him. "If you don't, I'll kill myself."  
Sherlock looked annoyed at me for a second but then hurt at my instruction.  
He looked at me for a few seconds and then looked at the ground to where the knife lay. He picked it up and stared at me again, his face full of sadness.  
"I'm sorry John," he said, then to my surprise, turned the knife around to face himself.  
"No, alright, stop it now!" I yelled, and tried to force myself up from the ground to go to him.  
"No, stay exactly where you are. Don't move," he held one hand out towards me and I nodded my head slowly.  
"Alright," I answered, defeated that I knew I couldn't save him.  
"Goodbye John."  
"No, don't-" Then Sherlock plunged the knife into his stomach. I watched him as he collapsed to the ground, his body lifeless, and the canon fired. Blood was dripping from where the knife was, and all I could do was stare at him, coated in my own blood.  
"Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the 74th annual hunger games- John Watson from District 10!" a voice announced.  
I didn't take my eyes off Sherlock.  
"Sherlock," I couldn't help the few tears falling from my face now as much as I tried to stop them. I reached out to him, hoping he would be okay and this wouldn't be real. I had lost my best friend.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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19

When I woke up, I didn't know where I was.  
"Sherlock?" I asked, sitting up from the bed I was on. "Where am I?"  
One of my arms had a tube leading into it, but my shoulder was no longer in pain. I felt my face for where Moriarty had cut me and discovered no wounds. Was it real?  
"Oh, you're awake now," a person walked into my room and was expressionless. It was real, the person was definitely from the Capitol with their brightly coloured hair, extreme makeup and unnatural skin tone.  
"How long have I been out for?" I asked.  
"Couple of hours, but you're all patched up and better."  
The person didn't sound like they wanted to speak to me.  
"Thank you," I said, looking away.  
"You have your interview later, your stylists will come and fix you up in a few minutes." She left the room without another word.  
The idea of interviews made me sick. They would probably ask me about Sherlock. My best friend, Sherlock Holmes, was dead. I wondered about his home, whether his family hated me for not trying enough to save him. I wondered if he even had a family at home, since we never talked about it. I couldn't stop my thoughts from racing; everything I saw when I closed my eyes was the bodies of the people who had been killed. I thought about their families back home, how much they must want me dead. I realised I would have to go back to my district and see Sarah's family, who will never want to see me again because I didn't try to rescue her when she died. As much as I didn't want to, I couldn't help but cry for the few minutes I was alone.

Everything was a blur until the interview happened. I couldn't remember getting on stage, just sitting down and having the host smile at me like he was meeting the most important person in Panem.  
"John Watson," he began, "When we all saw you on this stage before the games, I don't think many people would have expected for you to be the winner. Well, you shocked us all, right?" he laughed as he spoke and I forced a smile.  
"It's come as a shock to me too," I admitted.  
The audience laughed louder, although my comment was really not funny.  
"Now, let's begin this by talking about your time in the games," He smiled. "We saw you made a lot of allies in there, were they all genuine?"  
"Of course," I answered. "Nobody could afford to be alone in there, we all helped each other out at some point."  
"And we saw that the tribute who went into the games with you from your district, Sarah, she died a painful death in that cave. How did that make you feel?"  
I hesitated. "Upset, but also kind of relieved that it was a natural thing that we couldn't prevent rather than somebody killing her."  
_What a lie_, I thought._ The capitol set that up to kill her.  
_"Yes, we understand."  
_No you don't._  
"And of course, nobody can ignore the relationship between you and the boy from 6, Sherlock Holmes. Tell us about that."  
I had dreaded this discussion. "There's not much to say apart from what everyone would have seen anyway," I shrugged. "Sherlock Holmes... There were times that I didn't even think he was human. But let me tell you this, he was the best man and the most human, human being that I have ever known. "  
The audience made no sound to my answer and I stared at the floor, desperately trying not to cry again.  
"So what was it, simply that you were allies, friends or was there going to be something more?" he smiled and encouraged the audience, who made some kind of cheering noise.  
"He was my best friend," my voice was quite monotone and my face was completely emotionless. I couldn't be bothered putting on an act for them now.  
"And now for our final thing- Your sister, Harriet," the host said.  
I felt a huge hit of guilt, since I seemed to have completely forgotten about her. "I'll be so glad to see her."  
"And we're sure she will be so glad to see you too," he grinned at my sudden mood-boost. "John Watson, you were fantastic in the Hunger Games. We're now going to show your highlights!"  
I hadn't remembered that they showed this.  
Suddenly on a screen, I could see me in the arena again, it made me panic frantically but I tried to act calm. I saw everything again: running from the cornucopia, being re-united with Sarah, watching Randall be killed, meeting Mike again, meeting Sherlock, Mike dying, meeting Greg, saving Sherlock, Sherlock killing Anderson, Sarah dying, Sally Donovan joining us, Moriarty using me to get to Sherlock, meeting Irene and Kate, Kate dying, Irene killing the Golem, meeting Molly, Irene dying, meeting Henry, meeting Louise, Molly dying, Donovan dying, Sherlock almost dying of hypothermia, Louise dying, Henry dying, Bob dying, Lestrade dying, finding Moriarty with Sherlock, Moriarty trying to injure me, Sherlock coming to help me, Moriarty killing himself. The final part was played out properly, not just quick shots. I saw Sherlock killing himself all over again, the conversation we had before hand, and then the video stopped playing.  
"John Watson, you did wonderfully, we wish you the best of luck in your life!" The audience cheered and I left the stage.  
I was finally greeted by Ella and Pearl when I got off stage.  
"John, I'm so happy you won, this is wonderful!" Pearl beamed. "You will get to live such a nicer life now, you get to live in the victors' village, it'll be amazing. You will love it!"  
"Yes, um, am I going home now?" I asked.  
She nodded her head but looked slightly disappointed at my lack of enthusiasm.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or The Hunger Games, sadly.**

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**20**

When I got off the train back in District 10, the first thing I wanted to do was see Harriet. And I did.  
"John," she said, staring at me from a short distance. "You're really alive."  
"Harriet."  
She ran towards me and threw her arms around me tightly, crying into my shoulder. It made me cry too, seeing how upset she was. I wondered if she had kept her promise to stop drinking alcohol, since I had kept my part of the promise of keeping alive thanks to Sherlock.  
"I'm so sorry this happened to you John," she sobbed.  
"It's okay Harry," I answered. "I'm home, I'm safe."  
We sat down together when she stopped crying and were in complete silence.  
"So did you keep your promise?" I asked her.  
She smiled then and nodded her head. "Yes, but I'm happier that you kept yours."  
There was a knock on the door. I walked over to it cautiously, still feeling like everything I had to do needed to be careful and in self defence. To my surprise, I saw Ella standing with a letter in her hand.  
"Keep this a secret from everyone, nobody can find it," she told me, passing the crumpled letter to me.  
I nodded my head and she walked away so I closed the door behind her.  
"What was that?" Harriet asked me.  
"She just wanted to check if I was okay," I lied. "Hey, Harry, I'm going to go see my room again, I need to sleep for a bit."  
"Okay but I mean, you don't have to live there anymore."  
"I know, I don't care," I said. She shrugged and then I walked off into my room.  
It was cold and felt empty because it had been a long time since I had last been in there.  
I sat on my bed, which felt a lot comfier than sleeping on the cave floors in the arena, and opened my letter.  
"Dear John Watson,  
We are writing this letter without knowing if you will ever receive it. This is probably illegal to send, but we are willing to take the chance.  
Our names are Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft Holmes."  
My heart almost stopped when I saw 'Holmes', so I continued reading.  
"We were both so thankful for you sticking with Sherlock until the very end, for accepting him and always trying to help him. We know you did as much as you possibly could, and that means the world to us. From what we saw, Sherlock didn't tell you anything about us. Mycroft is Sherlock's older brother, and Mrs Hudson has looked after Sherlock for the past few years of his life since his mother died. We know that if anyone finds out we have written this letter, we will be killed, but if not, we hope to see you on the Victory tour. Stay safe.  
- Mrs Hudson and Mycroft Holmes, District 6.  
P.S. Molly's parents said about how much they were thankful of you and Sherlock for helping her, even if it was for a short time. It meant a lot."  
I put the letter flat out on the bed and stared at it. I was lost for how to feel, and even though they had comforted me, I still felt like I should have done more to save Sherlock. I began to fold the letter back up to hide it somewhere safe, until something caught my eye when the window's light shone on it.  
"John, I'm sorry for tricking you like that and I don't blame you if you hate me for doing it, but I'm not dead. I can't explain how I'm alive, but believe that I am. I'll come find you John and we'll go somewhere away from Panem. My family and yours, all together and we can be safe. Thank you for being there, I will see you soon. –SH"  
I put the letter down again and looked out of the small window. My best friend, the boy from six, was still alive.

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**A/N: Hello everyone! So the fanfic is finished! I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. I'm thinking that when Series 3 comes out I may continue with this story as another fic? Opinions on that would be appreciated. Please do remember to review this fanfic as I need criticism to improve on what I do! :D Literally cannot thank anyone enough for reading this, it's done wonders for my confidence in writing. x **


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